Scarier Than All the Demons in Hell
by Jimli
Summary: Dante's toughest challenge doesn't involve the usual kind of foe and isn't fought in the usual stylish manner. Despite being out of his comfort zone in the worst way, he manages the best he can. So far, he hasn't received any complaints...
1. Playtime

_**A/N: As of 01/14/14: **I decided that since this was obviously no longer a one-shot, I would pull the two stories, and repost them together, where future chapters can be found as well. I didn't want to lose the wonderful reviews I had for both tales, so I saved them. I hope that everyone continues to read this, and that it continues to please. As a bonus, I am posting a new, previously unposted chapter to this._

_Without further ado, please read, enjoy, and review!_

_Jimli :)_

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_**A/N: **__Here is a cute, fluffy little story that practically wrote itself. I don't think it will be more than a one-shot, but I guess you never know. Wonder of wonders, it is completely clean. Well, alcohol is drunk, but there's no cursing, no violence, no sex..._

_Let me know what you think!_

_Jimli :D_

_P. S. The new cover art of chibi Dante is courtesy of plavo-sunce (and her Dante-muse). Thanks! :)_

**Disclaimer:** _So Capcom owns the rights to Devil May Cry right now, but the way I see it, when the zombie apocalypse comes, they'll be up for dibs, so I'm putting my bid in now, right along with my survival gear._

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**Playtime**

Dante was rummaging through the office.

He sighed when he couldn't find what he was looking for, then wandered towards the fridge in the corner.

He pushed aside the colorful juice boxes and the gallon of milk to grab a bottle of beer from the back. His last one until he got a decent job, and that was still provided he didn't run out of funds before he picked up other, more important things.

He frowned over the thought, then caught the sound of tiny giggling.

He opened the bottle and plopped down on the couch. He plunked his boots on the coffee table in front of him, took a swig from the bottle, then closed his eyes. He was waiting.

He heard the refrigerator open, heard clumsy rifling, then heard the door close with careful deliberation.

Dante cracked open one ice-blue eye as little shoes came pattering towards the couch, accompanied by another tiny giggle.

A white-haired toddler had a juice box in his hands. He placed it on the table, then laboriously climbed onto the couch. The little boy turned around, reached for the now-distant box, then stuck his small shoes towards the table.

Dante watched this with a mix of amusement and fascination. He absently crossed his feet as he took another drink.

The little boy, his blue-green eyes glued to the hunter's every motion, also crossed his feet, then slurped from his juice box.

Dante blinked. Was the kid mocking him? He cocked his head curiously, watching as the little one also cocked his head.

Dante took another drink. The boy took another drink.

The hunter crossed his feet the other way; so did the toddler.

Dante shook his head, finished his bottle, and set it on the table. He needed music, so he wandered to the far corner where his prized jukebox sat.

He turned when he heard small steps behind him.

The juice box, no doubt empty, was sitting on the table and the kid was less than six feet behind him, also stopped.

"Whatever, kid," Dante commented, resuming his walk.

"Wah-e'er, kit," came the small response.

"I'm not the kid, here," Dante frowned, stopping again. "You are."

"I not kit," the boy answered impatiently.

He had his arms crossed and his face was puckered into a scowl. Dante hadn't even realized his own arms were crossed until he shifted again.

"Don't you want to play or something?" he tried.

The boy's eyes lit up. "Pway! Wanna pway!"

He ran forward and grabbed the edge of Dante's coat, obviously prepped to drag him off. When Dante didn't budge, he frowned up at the hunter.

"Come on! Pway with Tony," the little boy wheedled.

"I don't-" he stopped, looking at the three-year-old with fascination again.

Three years and he still wasn't used to this. Everything about the little boy amazed him.

"Pease? Pease pway? Pease Daddy?" his tiny voice asked, accentuating every 'pease' with another tug on his coat.

Dante moved quickly, startling the little boy. He had him scooped up into his arms before the toddler could even squeal.

"All right, kid. What do you want to play?"

"Chase Tony! Chase Tony!"

From the delight in the boy's voice, the hunter knew he'd just been waiting to be asked.

"Chase Tony, huh? I don't know, I usually only chase monsters," he mused, hiding a grin.

"Mon-sir chase Tony?" the little boy asked, confused.

"You want a monster to chase Tony?" Dante asked, equally confused.

Again delighted, Tony started clapping.

"Yay! Mon-sir chase Tony! Mon-sir chase Tony!"

Dante put the boy down, then did something he rarely ever found himself doing. He triggered.

The boy gasped, his eyes big and round.

"Daddy?"

"That's right," he affirmed, a little scared himself.

What if he frightened the kid?

"Is Tony scared?" he asked carefully.

"Daddy mon-sir?"

Dante wasn't sure how to answer that.

"Daddy mon-sir chase Tony?"

Dante nodded. "If that's what you want."

Tony's eyes grew round again, but he was grinning from ear-to-ear.

"Oh no! Daddy mon-sir chase Tony!" he squealed, running away.

Dante grinned himself, striding after the little boy.

Four hours later, Lady walked into the office. The lights were off, despite the lateness of the evening, and quite a bit of the furniture was out of position, though none of it was damaged or overturned.

A strange rustling noise was coming from under the mezzanine, and she went on guard, drawing her guns.

Straining to see in the gloom, she made her way over to the couch beneath the balcony.

She blinked in disbelief as she slowly lowered her pistols.

A devil she was relatively sure was actually Dante was sleeping on the couch, wings wrapped around the softly snoring form of his son, Tony.

"Dante?" she asked hesitantly, but it was the boy who answered.

"Shh!" he whispered loudly. "Daddy mon-sir see-pin."

It only took a few moments for this strange admonishment to process in her brain.

"Daddy monster is sleeping?" she asked almost incredulously.

"Yep," the boy confirmed quietly.

"I think I'll just talk to him tomorrow," Lady said, still nonplussed.

"Night Wady," the toddler answered cheerfully in his stage whisper.

"Yeah, night Tony."

She locked the doors on the way out, resolved to show up bright and early tomorrow.

Just not _too _early.


	2. At the Park

Dante was taking the day off.

He'd taken a typical shit job for Lady, although at least she was more generous with the pay.

When Tony had been left with him, he'd patiently explained to her that there was no way in hell he was going to continue taking lousy jobs from her with little to no compensation any longer. Especially not if he was going to have to find a babysitter every time.

They'd made a nice compromise.

Lady would watch Tony, Dante would work the job. When paid, Lady would divide the money straight down the middle, minus damages.

It was amazing how quickly his debt to her dried up.

Tony had been very unhappy about Dante leaving yesterday, however, so today, they were headed to the park.

Dante plopped his leather-clad rear on a wooden bench near the path, watching as his son happily chased squirrels. Unlike the other preschoolers, Tony came very close to catching the fluffy-tailed rodents.

The hunter frowned. He hoped the little boy didn't manage to actually catch one. He wasn't concerned about the attention that would garner; he was more worried the kid would want to bring it home as a pet.

He reached into a pocket and pulled out a bag of dried berries.

Who would have ever thought he'd like dried fruit? He'd never even looked at the stuff before he began perusing snack aisles for his always-hungry spawn.

Was that a human trait or a devil one?

The little white-haired boy ran at him, laughing ecstatically.

Dante leaned forward, opening his arms to catch him.

"Daddy! Can I have some please?"

"Sure, kid," he said, pouring berries into the boy's very small hands.

"I'm not a kid!" he pouted.

Dante ruffled his hair, smiling. "Whatever, kid."

Tony moved from his grasp to climb onto the bench.

More than one good-looking woman walked past their bench, smiling at the pair sitting close, sharing a snack.

Dante reflected that he probably could have easily hit on any of them with high success, but he found little motive to do so.

He didn't regret his son in his life, but he knew better than to keep an active sex life with Tony now in the picture.

The funny thing was, he found himself wondering more about how a woman would handle Tony than how she could handle him.

"Come on, Daddy," the boy said, pulling at him. "Play with me."

Dante hesitated, frowning slightly, but Tony continued.

"No monster, just play. Hide-and-seek? Tag?"

"Tag. We can play monster hide-and-seek later, after dark," Dante conceded.

It still amazed him how comfortable the boy was with his Devil Trigger, but on top of that, Dante had come to the grim realization that as much as he wanted to protect his son, Tony was going to have a hard life. Not only were there plenty of demons out there still out for Sparda's blood, but he himself had become a much-hated figure in the demon world.

It hadn't taken very many nature programs for Dante to make the connection between playing games and training for real life.

Hide-and-seek, tag, dozens of other seemingly ordinary and innocuous games took on a greater significance to Tony, especially if Dante were in Devil Trigger.

"Daddy!" Tony's voice snapped him back to the moment.

He smiled. "Tag?"

"You're it!" the small boy squealed, slapping Dante's knee before taking off across the grass.

Dante had to admit, the boy was quick and agile. He even had to put some effort into catching him.

In between bouts, when he came close to some of those pretty young mothers, he caught the occasional mention of how cute they were playing, or a sigh induced by an overload on the 'aww' factor.

He mostly ignored them.

In the back of his mind where the part that still marveled over the idea of being a father lived, he was equally astonished at how little he cared about following up on those openings.

Tony's small cry of pain jerked him from his thoughts.

He was by the little boy's side in a flash, delicately probing the preschooler for injury. His son's knee was bleeding from a scrape that was long but shallow.

Tony's devil hadn't awakened of course, and he was still very young, still growing. While Dante had no reason to believe he wouldn't have the same capabilities and special powers he'd had as a child, he also wasn't surprised at how underdeveloped they were.

Tears welled up in the boy's blue-green eyes.

"Are you all right? Anything else hurt?"

"I'm okay," came the watery reply.

He brushed at his tears, obviously trying to look tough in front of his father.

Dante rubbed his thumb over the scrape and found a scab already knitted over the wound. A good sign. He smiled and leaned over to kiss the boy's knee.

"Better?"

Tony nodded.

"Ready to play again?"

"Ice cream?" Tony bargained.

"Pizza, then ice cream," Dante answered. "Then come back and play monster hide-and-seek."

Delight filled his son's features, and both males stood, reaching automatically for the other's hand.

As they walked past a bench, a woman sitting on it caught Dante's sleeve.

"You know, I think it's so nice to see a man playing with his son. I wish my children's father was half the man you are."

"I'm sure he's twice the man I am, lady," Dante replied.

He left her blinking after him, but he wasn't too concerned.

Pizza, ice cream, and monster hide-and-seek seemed far more pressing.


	3. Just Like a Big Boy

_**A/N: **Here is the new chapter, one I had not previously posted. I hope you enjoy!_

_Many thanks to Be Rose for her inspiring ideas. And many, many thanks to all who had reviewed, favorited, or followed the previous stories._

_Jimli :)_

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**Just Like a Big Boy**

Dante was not happy.

He'd been up late working a case for Lady, and now, a bare four hours later, that kid had awakened him.

Terrible Twos, Lady had called it once.

The little boy was certainly a ball of energy. He wondered if it was because Tony was demonic or if all two-year-olds were like that.

The bathroom door slammed open as Dante stepped out of the shower, and the toddler in question ran in.

"Hon-gee! Hon-gee!" the boy declared.

"Yeah, kid, I know. You said as much when you climbed into my bed," Dante answered dully.

He stood in front of the toilet and started relieving himself.

Peals of tiny laughter greeted his ears. Dante frowned, looking at his equipment. He'd never had that reaction to it before. He looked at the boy.

"Fuh-nee! Daddy fuh-nee!"

"Look, kid, my d-"

"Not kid!" the white haired boy snapped.

He had his arms folded, scowling at the hunter. Dante hadn't figured out why the little boy didn't like being called kid. It wasn't an insult. He was two. He was a kid. He'd be a kid for a long time yet.

Dante shook his head, then focused back on the task at hand.

Tony, too, looked back at what his father was doing and burst into peals of laughter again.

Dante sighed as he finished. He reached for the handle to flush.

"Tony do it!"

Dante sighed again. "Sure. Knock yourself out."

Instead of reaching for the toilet, though, the little boy started tugging at his pajamas.

The hunter squatted down to help. Tony could rip his clothing easily when frustrated and shopping to replace the boy's clothes today didn't appeal to Dante in the slightest.

After getting the pajama pants off, Tony started pulling at his diaper.

Dante cocked his head. "What are you doing, kid? I thought you wanted to flush the toilet."

"Not kid!" Tony yelled, pulling furiously at his diaper. "Wanna do it!"

Dante caught the little boy's hands while he puzzled out what he was talking about. An idea occurred to him. The little boy had been telling him lately when he wet himself, sometimes before the event even happened. According to what he'd recently read, that meant Tony was ready to potty train.

"Do you want to p-" he cut himself off.

Lady had mentioned that Tony had started repeating everything. He was trying to be careful what he said in front of the kid.

"Pee? In the toilet?" he finished.

"Yep," the kid confirmed.

Dante nodded. "I'll be right back."

He rummaged around, finding a stool his cleaning girl had used. His mouth twisted sourly, but he brushed off his thoughts. Dante plopped the stool in front of the toilet, hoping that Tony hadn't wet himself in the meantime.

"Here, k-" he cut himself off again, "Tony. Stand on this."

The two-year-old unsteadily stepped onto the stool with Dante's assistance. Dante removed the diaper. At least it was still dry.

Now he was at a loss. How should he explain? He hadn't managed to read that far in the book yet.

"Point your little part into the bowl and pee," he instructed.

"Yep," Tony replied, watching his tiny equipment.

Just when Dante was sure that this tactic wasn't going to work, he heard liquid splashing into the bowl. Tony giggled.

"Fuh-nee!"

"Yeah, funny," the hunter agreed.

Dante actually thought it was nearly the cutest thing the kid had done yet.

He helped the boy into a new diaper, bade him to say so if he needed to do it again, and cleaned up the sprinkles Tony had left.

A few hours later, Lady was nodding. She was trying to be patient, but Dante had shared this story with her and everyone else who had walked in. Twice, at least.

"Yeah, Dante, I know. 'Just like a big boy.' Tony is cute, you're a proud father. I got it. Can we focus on this job now?"

"You babysitting?"

"That was our agreement," she replied.

"I'll take it," he answered, grabbing his sword. "I need to get Tony something for his birthday. Make sure you help him if he wants to pee in the toilet."

Lady watched him waltz casually out the door. She glanced over at Tony, curled up and asleep on the couch.

She actually sort of liked babysitting Dante's son, and not just because it meant Dante was less argumentative about taking jobs. Tony really _was_ a cute little boy.

"Wady?" came his small voice. "Wady! Wady!"

He came alive, bounding over to her. He looked around the office.

"Daddy?"

"Dante's out doing a job," she explained.

"Daddy be wite bat?"

"Yeah," she agreed.

"Wady pway Tony?"

"Sure thing."

Dante got in late. Lady was barely awake, flipping unenthusiastically through the TV channels. She informed him of the evening's activities, told him when she'd finally convinced Tony to go to bed, and said she'd call in the morning about the pay.

"Not too early, though," she teased.

Dante shrugged. "Might as well. I'm sure Tony will have me up early. He usually does."

He sounded exasperated at the idea, but she wasn't very convinced.

She was positive Dante enjoyed being a father. She knew he had parenting books sitting beside his magazines on the shelf, and more than once she'd caught him leafing through one of them.

He played with the little guy, bought him an occasional treat or toy, kept juice boxes in his refrigerator, had learned how to make pancakes, and numerous other things.

She hadn't figured there would ever be anyone Dante would go to so much effort for.

"Need something? Bathroom's in the back you know," Dante teased from the stairs.

Lady shook her head. He didn't even hit on her anymore.

Almost scary how Dante's life had changed with the arrival of the baby boy he'd named Anthony Vergil.

It was like he'd grown up.

_ Just like a big boy._


	4. Bedtime TailTales

_**A/N: **This one is, perhaps inevitably, not quite as light-hearted as the others. I hope you enjoy it just the same. The book Dante reads is a real book called _The Moorchild_ by Eloise McGraw. A lovely book, and a good choice for Dante to read. ;)_

_No cursing, drinking, sex,...you readers are going to wonder if it really is Devil May Cry after all. Debatable, I suppose. Speaking of which, has anyone seen my rights to the franchise? I can't find them anywhere..._

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**Bedtime Tail/Tales**

"Am I a monster?"

Dante blinked open his eyes, trying to focus on his spawn.

"What are you talking about, kid?"

Tony came around the edge of his desk, frowning, though Dante didn't think it was because of the generic moniker the boy disliked. He had something in his hand, and when the hunter realized what it was, he understood where the question had come from.

He suppressed a scowl. He had been afraid of this question.

"I have a tail. Humans don't have tails. Monsters have tails," the boy said quietly, looking at the appendage in question.

Dante's mind drifted briefly, remembering that same quiet confused look on her face, as she had said something similar about the cute baby boy in her arms. He remembered Lady's expression, too, the first time she'd changed a diaper, showing a clearly out-of-his-depth devil hunter how to do it.

He focused on his son.

"Being a monster is more than what you look like. There are all kinds of monsters, good and bad, and they all look different."

He triggered, waiting for his son to look at him.

"Am I a monster, kid?"

Instead of the usual fascination, Tony just shrugged, looking back at his fleshy, spade-ended tail.

Dante released his trigger, thinking.

The difference was, he looked perfectly human, despite his white hair, until he triggered. Tony, on the other hand, had been born looking different. The hunter figured that even if the little one did learn to trigger, he'd still have the tail, no matter which form he took on.

"Come on, kid," he said, rising from his chair.

Dante paused on his way to the stairs when he noticed the boy wasn't following him.

"Hey," he said softly, eliciting no response.

Dante's heart hurt at the look his son was giving his tail.

"Tony," he called, forcing a smile onto his face.

The little boy looked up, curious. Dante knew why; he rarely called him by name. He held out a hand to his son.

"Come on, Tony. I want to read you a story before I go out tonight."

"Is Lady coming?"

Dante chuckled a little at the sudden perk in his son's small voice; Tony had developed a crush on the huntress. At least he had good taste, even if it was a dead end.

"Yeah. I've got a job, so she's going to watch you tonight. First, I want to read this story to you."

The little boy dropped his tail and walked to the hunter, taking his hand.

Dante helped him into bed, tucked him in, and went to the bookshelf. He pulled down a book he had been saving for just this question, hoping it would help.

He didn't want his son to feel ashamed of who and what he was, but he knew better than to assume Tony would have an easy time getting acceptance.

Caution, that was the key. Tony had to learn caution, to be careful who he trusted. A hard lesson to instill in a boy not yet in school, and one that made his heart ache again. Dante rarely reflected on the fairness of life, a fruitless exercise if ever he'd seen one, but he knew all too well what his son was in for.

"You've never read that one before, Daddy," the little boy commented.

"Nope. Been saving it for a special occasion."

Dante sat down on the bed, opening the book. Tony snuggled against his hip, listening intently as his father read.

The story was actually about a girl, an inadvertent changeling, thrust into the human world by her fey kin for being 'misbegotten', half fairy folk, half human.

It explored the feelings and actions of those around her, the love from her adoptive family, little though they, or even she, knew of her true nature, the hatred from the other denizens of the village, no more enlightened than her family, only aware that this little girl was 'freaky-odd'.

Dante had been idling browsing through the children's section of the bookstore one day when Tony had still been a baby. He hadn't known the book personally, but he knew well the distrustful expressions on the drawn faces of the children on the cover.

Curious, he'd picked up the book and started leafing through it. He hadn't needed any advice from his many parenting books to realize that this would help his son later. He'd bought it and stowed it on the bookshelf in Tony's room, both waiting for the day he'd need to read it, and hoping it would never come.

Unlike most evenings, Tony didn't fall asleep before the book was over; he stayed glued to every word, gasping and giggling in all the right places.

Dante's mind was half focusing on reading, half pondering over what sort of questions his son might ask afterwards, and how he'd answer them.

He sensed Lady's presence when she approached the door, and he'd expected her to interrupt, but she never did.

When he finally reached the end, he looked at Tony, waiting.

"Am I like Saaski? Misbeg, be,"

"'Misbegotten'?" Dante supplied.

His son nodded.

The harsh truth was yes, but Dante couldn't bring himself to say that to a little boy he loved so much.

"I certainly wasn't expecting you, kid, but you're no more misbegotten than I am."

Dante took it as a bad sign that Tony didn't argue over 'kid'.

"Hey. Tony," Dante said softly.

When the little boy looked up, the hunter smiled at him.

"I don't know what you are. I don't even know what I am. Never did. I know you're my son. I know that you're a special little guy."

Dante thought for a moment.

"Did I ever tell you where your name comes from?"

Tony shrugged a shoulder, clearly brooding.

"Anthony Vergil. Named after the sons of Sparda."

"Sparda?"

"Yep. Tell you what. Lady knows the legend of Sparda, as much as anyone does, I guess. Why don't you ask her about it while she's watching you tonight?"

"I don't have to go to bed?" the little boy asked dubiously.

"Not unless you want to. Special treat."

He gave Tony a light kiss on the forehead, then strolled out of the room.

"Catch you later, Lady."

Lady watched Dante as he sauntered easily down the stairs, then turned her attention to the small boy in bed.

"The legend of Sparda, huh?" she asked as she came into the room. "I never knew him, but I did meet his sons. Both of them..."


End file.
